Pecans. and Formalities.

"Say that again?"
"Super?"
"Slowly."
"SHUUPer?"

I think my circle of friends have disowned me. Is it weird that I've been pronouncing the super- prefix that way for as long as I've been breathing?

SHUUPernatural
SHUUPerstitious
SHUUPer job!

Light travels faster than sound.

That's why you believe someone is bright until you hear them talk.

Finally, something worse than cancer! :)

The thermometer read 31°F when I left the house this afternoon for a trek to Barnes & Nobles, which happens to be only fifteen minutes by feet (0.0000000000000002076518 second by Unidentified Flying Object), for the sole purpose of replacing my lost copy of Hesse's Siddhartha. RIP. Beloved novel, paperweight, pillow, thou shalt be truly missed.

There is nothing quite tantamount to the coziness of a bookstore. I know that is as cliché as cliché gets; as a child, I used to mentally fabricate conniving schemes for staying in a bookshop overnight - with my method of ninja concealment being the ability to blend in as I lie flat on the very top shelf. NERDALERT!

Passing by the new arrivals, minding my own business....what is that I see?

Who am I? Really?

One of the many things I'm not too good at: introducing myself. It is in these moments where I simply state my name, and perhaps my age, right before I realize that I am sounding more and more like a crack addict in Cocaine Anonymous. Why are their names the first things that people say on the microphone at these support groups? HELLLLLLLLO, that beats the point of the "anonymity." And because nobody on this site has their own profile, unlike Facebook/MySpace/etcetera, clearly stating general demographics like

NAME:

AGE:

BIRTHDATE:

HOMETOWN:

SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER:

I am convinced that the only thing that matters is WHAT I'm typing into this pale, snowy void and not so much the WHO that is typing it.